


resfeber

by kittensoo



Category: Infinite (Band), K-pop, Miss A
Genre: F/M, myungzy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-02-19
Packaged: 2018-01-13 02:18:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1209145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittensoo/pseuds/kittensoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>resfeber (n.) the restless face of a traveller's heart before the journey begins, when anxiety and anticipation are tangled together.</p><div class="center">
  <p>—otherwordly</p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	resfeber

**Author's Note:**

> a collection of drabbles and snippet of stories, a part of full stories in my clouded mind that might be written in the futures.
> 
> (or not.)

"Hello?"

Her voice was soft and delicate, it made his heart warm and made him feel peaceful, but with a tinge of sadness. He wanted to open his mouth and tell her that, that her voice was like something that belonged to an angel. But he didn’t do that, he kept silent. He closed his eyes and bit his lips, wanting to hear the voice again but he couldn’t even ask for that and could only wait.

"Who is this?"

He didn’t answer. Instead he looked at a note on his wall, a small note between other dozens of tacked notes and pictures that were filled with his own writing, reminding him what to do or who were the people around him.

'When feeling sad, call this number. Don't speak.' the note said, with a phone number under it. He always did what the note told him, just because he knew that he was the one who wrote that note. He was sure that there was a reason why he wrote that, why he shouldn’t speak at all, even though he couldn’t remember it. He couldn’t even remember who was the girl on the other line, didn’t know her name or how her face looked like.

"Hello?"

He didn’t know how many times he had made a call to the number, maybe a lot of times. But still, he couldn’t help but smile when he hear her voice, the only thing he knew of her. It felt like he was with the girl, it felt like he was happy. But it was a fake happiness, covering the sadness beneath.

He couldn’t decide if it was good or cruel that he wouldn’t even remember the voice tomorrow, forgetting it over and over.

* * *

 

 


End file.
